


Are You Lonely Looking For Yourself Out There?

by TheseusInTheMaze



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, Foot Fetish, Identity Porn, Melancholy, Multiple Orgasms, Snow, Vaginal Fingering, toe sucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:21:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24269608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: The Doctor knew this was a bad idea. But one little visit couldn't hurt, right?
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Donna Noble
Comments: 16
Kudos: 40
Collections: The First Annual Femslash Kink Exchange 2020





	Are You Lonely Looking For Yourself Out There?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [listlessness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/listlessness/gifts).



> Saw the lovely prompt and couldn't resist! Hope you enjoy!

Donna Noble sat at a bar, and stared moodily into her drink. 

The Doctor had been watching Donna covertly (or… well, “covertly,”) for days, and it seemed that Donna did most things moodily. Not that the Doctor could entirely blame her - if the Doctor had to spend any time around Donna’s mother, she would have been moody too. 

She’d have gone from moody and straight into _homicidal_ , truth be told, but Donna hadn’t reached that point. At least, not yet.

But now was her chance. It was a quiet, snowy night in that dreary week between Christmas and New Years, and Donna had been having a bad week. It was two years before Lance came along, so the Doctor didn’t have to worry about tripping over any particular things that might do who knew what to Donna’s brain. 

(The Doctor, in fact, knew what. She didn’t want to think about it too hard, although it did sometimes niggle in the back of her brain when she was feeling especially self-flagellating). 

“Can I buy you a drink?” The Doctor said, as she slid onto the empty barstool next to Donna. As if she hadn’t practiced this, hadn’t rehearsed it inside the confines of her own skull as she piloted the TARDIS to this here and now, as she wandered around Chiswick, as she sidled into the bar and waited for the crowd to thin out.

Donna looked up from her drink, and she frowned. “Who, me?” She pointed to herself. 

"Yeah," the Doctor said, and she put on her biggest, winningest smile. "You look like you could use one."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Donna's eyebrows knit together, and she was frowning. 

"Just that your drink looks like it's almost empty," the Doctor said. _I forgot how snappish she used to be._

Donna's expression went smoother. "Well, when ya put it that way," she said, and she gestured for the bartender. 

"So… you come here often?" The Doctor had a glass of water in front of her, and she ran her finger along the rim of the glass. 

"Oh, y'know," Donna said. "They're the first ones who put the Christmas decorations away, and I am sick of all the…" She made a dismissive hand gesture. 

"Cheer?" The Doctor suggested. 

The bartender set a drink in front of Donna. 

Donna finished the drink that was nearly empty, then took an appreciative sip of the one in front of her. "That's one way to put it," she said. "All the fakeness, all the …" She wrinkled her nose and trailed off, then took a big sip of her drink. “Although there’s a guy at work who keeps making me coffee, and he told me if he ever got married, he’d wanna do it on Christmas. Which seems daft, if you ask me.” 

"Yeah?" The Doctor rested her chin in her palm, and she let Donna's ranting wash over her. It was nice, having her old friend here, even if it wasn't Donna as her friend. This was Donna before Lance, before the Ood, before anything.

Bits of the Donna who would become the Doctor's best friend shone through, and the Doctor could take comfort in that, at the very least. 

"And then she had the nerve to tell me that I wasn't even a real ginger!" Donna said, clearly at the end of some rant. 

"That wasn't very nice of her," the Doctor said. "Always rude, to accuse someone of being a hair charlatan."

Donna let out a startled cackle of laugh, and her face was made that much more lovely for it. The Doctor's chest ached, with memories, with some kind of complicated longing. 

“You get it a lot, when you’ve got red hair,” Donna said, and she made a face, then grinned a bit. “I suspect you get the same, being blond.”

“Am I?” The Doctor took a piece of hair, held it out in front of her and stared at it, cross eyed. “Hard to keep track of, sometimes.”

Donna burst out laughing, and she nudged the Doctor with her foot. She was grinning. “How d’you forget what color your hair is?” She took another sip of her drink, then made another face when she found it empty. “I s’pose I should be heading off,” she said. “My mum is gonna be on my arse about being out late to begin with.”

“That does sound tough,” the Doctor said, and she signaled for the bartender to come back, so she could pay. 

"It's what I get for moving back home, I suspect," said Donna, and she sighed, looking momentarily sad. "Must seem pretty pathetic to you, someone my age living at home."

"Not at all," said the Doctor, and she put a hand on Donna's arm, giving it a squeeze. "Lots of different people find themselves in different places in life." She cleared her throat, shoving her hands in her pockets and shifting on her feet. "Let me walk you a bit."

"Aren't you the nice one," Donna said, and she was shooting the Doctor a suspicious look. "What did you say your name was?"

"Jane," said the Doctor. "Jane Smith."

"Bit generic, that," said Donna, as she zipped up her own coat. "Your mum run out of ideas?"

"Something like that," the Doctor agreed, "but I wouldn't want to see a lady out on her own on a snowy night like this."

"Aren't you the charmer," Donna said. "Although aren't you cold, with your ankles all exposed like that?" She indicated the Doctor's trousers, which ended above her shins.

"Nah, I don't get cold easily," said the Doctor. The two of them stepped out into the darkness. "Oo, what a night." She shoved her hands into her pockets, stamped her feet theatrically. It wasn't that cold, honestly, but it always helped to make a show out of being cold around humans who didn't know that she was an alien. The snow was coming down around them, melting in her hair, dripping down her face and catching in the hood of her coat. 

"It's snowier this year," Donna agreed. "I always liked the snow," she added, and there was something downright _wistful_ about her expression. "My dad always liked it, too." 

"What d'you like about it?" The two of them made their way down the quiet street. 

"It makes everything quiet," Donna said. "It makes it seem..." She trailed off, and then she laughed. "This is gonna sound daft," she told the Doctor, "so don't judge me."

"I'm the last person to judge anyone," said the Doctor, which was mostly true. At least, it was true when it came to things like someone having daft ideas.

"I like to imagine I'm on another planet," Donna said. "Like I'm traveling somewhere amazing. Somewhere beautiful and strange, since the snow covers the shape of everything, leaves it all muffled. Like you're in a cloud, or a bubble." She laughed, tilting her head back, and her hair seemed to fall down her back in a tumble of red, like someone pouring out a glass of something redder than red. 

"That sounds like a lovely thing to imagine," the Doctor said, her tone gentle. "Have you done much traveling?" Oh, her heart ached. She wanted to kiss Donna more than she'd ever wanted to do anything.

(Well, not really, but the Doctor was the first to admit that she wasn't always the best at understanding her own emotions sometimes). 

"Nah," said Donna. "My family used to go on holiday, but it wasn't much of a holiday. Usually just to Brighton. Went to Majorca once, although I got sick from some bad seafood." She sighed. "Mum never let me hear the end of that one." She looked slightly sad for a moment. "She'll probably be in a foul mood when I get home," she added. "We had a row before I left. 's'why I went to the pub in the first place."

"You don't have to go home," the Doctor said impulsively. Or at least she tried to tell herself it was impulsively. Tried to tell herself she hadn't planned all of this, hoping against hope that Donna would say yes, because what were the chances of Donna saying yes? "I've got a hotel room, nearby. If you don't want to deal with your mum, or would want some... company." She trailed off, catching the look that Donna was giving her. 

"I'm... not interested," Donna said, although there was a thoughtful cast to her features. "Why'd ya think I was?"

"You seemed lonely," the Doctor said, which was mostly true.

"What, y'think that since I'm lonely I'm going to jump into bed with any stranger who buys me a drink?" And now Donna seemed to be going on a rant. 

At least that hadn't changed.

"No, no, I'm sorry," the Doctor said, and she held her hands up defensively. "I didn't mean to imply that, you're just... I like you." Which was true. "You're very beautiful and you're very funny, and..." She licked her lips, and she tried not to stare at Donna's lips, or her heaving chest, or anything else about her. "I like you," she said, aware of how silly she sounded.

"Well," said Donna, "I don't swing that way." She cleared her throat, standing in front of a house. In front of her house. "I appreciate the offer," she added, clearly uncomfortable and unclear what to say next. 

"Of course," said the Doctor, and she gave an awkward little half-wave. "Goodnight, Donna."

"Goodnight, Jane," said Donna, and she gave her own little awkward wave, and made her way down the walk, unlocking the door. 

The Doctor stayed at the front of the path, waiting until the door closed, then began to make her way back towards the TARDIS, slowly. She could hear the shouting all the way from down the street, and she winced. That... did not sound pleasant. It was nice to know that Donna would be getting away from that soon. Even with... well, everything else that was going to happen, she took some comfort in knowing that Donna would be happy. 

There was the sound of a slamming door, and then running feet. The Doctor turned around, surprised, to see a flushed, panting Donna staring at her with wide eyes. 

"Jane!" Donna said, and she grabbed the Doctor's arm, squeezing it. Her fingers seemed very hot, in the cold air, even through the Doctor's coat. "Jane, is the... is the offer still open?" 

The Doctor frowned, and then she smiled nervously. "'course it is." She rubbed her hands together, shifting from foot to foot. "It always is."

"I've never done this before," Donna admitted, and she cleared her throat. "Before... I..." She looked unsure, for the first time since the Doctor had known her. Then she was stepping forward, and her hands were on the Doctor's shoulders.

Donna pressed a nervous, dry kiss to the Doctor's mouth. It seemed like a frozen moment in time, the two of them standing on the empty, snowy street. When Donna pulled back, the shadows from the streetlight cast her face in harsh blacks and yellows, and her eyes seemed deep and hollow. 

“I just… wanted to see what it was like,” Donna said. “Before I committed to anything.” She twisted her hands together, and she looked nervous. “I’ve never kissed a girl before. Or a woman, I suppose.”

“Well,” the Doctor said, and she cleared her throat. She wasn’t sure what to do with her hands. “What’d ya think?”

“I think I should try it again,” Donna said, and she was leaning forward again. They were almost the same height, and Donna’s mouth was a little more assured this time, as she kissed the Doctor. She was wearing some kind of chapstick that tasted like artificial cherries, and she was moving her head from side to side, her hands going to the back of the Doctor’s head.

The Doctor’s hands moved to rest to Donna’s waist, and she held on gently, her bare hands stinging a bit in the cold air. Donna’s black coat was soft under the Doctor’s hands, and Donna’s mouth as warm and soft as it opened against the Doctor’s own. Her nose was cold against the Doctor’s own, and the snow falling around seemed to be little dark points, melting in her hair and against the back of her neck where her hood was pulled back. 

Donna pulled back, and she looked at the Doctor, her eyes dark in the dim light, her breath misting in front of her. “Okay,” she said, and her chest was heaving. The Doctor remembered the sight of that chest, in low cut shirts and dresses, and she pressed her own thighs together. 

“Okay?” The Doctor licked her lips. She could almost feel the spot where Donna’s cold nose had pressed into her cheek. 

“Take me to this hotel room of yours,” Donna said in a rush, and she reached out, taking the Doctor’s hand. “I’m a little old to be trying new things, but it’s better than…” She shot a thumb over her shoulder, and looked expectantly at the Doctor.

“Right,” said the Doctor, and she licked her lips. She squeezed Donna’s hand in her own, and Donna’s cold fingers pressed into her palm, Donna’s thumb rubbing little circles over the back of the Doctor’s hand. 

_This is a horrible idea_ , the Doctor’s logical side told her. She ignored it.

She’d gotten quite good at doing that, at this point.

* * *

Donna kissed the Doctor on the way up to the hotel room. There was more confidence in the kiss this time, and she pushed the Doctor against the wall of the lift, her fingers tangling in the Doctor’s hair and her tongue tracing along the Doctor’s lips, her teeth, into the Doctor’s mouth, then out again. When the elevator _dinged_ , the two of them broke apart, guilty. There was nobody on the other side of the door, and Donna met the Doctor’s eyes, then began to giggle. The giggles morphed into laughter, and the two of them were clutching at each other by the time they reached the Doctor’s floor, nearly bent over, chests heaving. 

Donna hung back, as the Doctor pulled the hotel key card out of her pocket, and she paused at the threshold of the hotel room, after the Doctor stepped through.

The Doctor looked over her shoulder at Donna, her hearts speeding up. “Are you alright?” She shoved her hands into her coat pockets, trying not to drum her fingers or fidget too much. She shouldn’t have been doing this. It was a supremely stupid idea.

“Never done this before,” Donna said. She squared her shoulders (the same way she’d squared her shoulders before stepping out of the TARDIS who knew how many times), and then she stepped into the hotel room, blinking in the dimmer lights that the Doctor had flicked on. 

“You mentioned,” the Doctor said. She shrugged out of her coat, and she caught Donna looking her up and down, and tried not to blush. 

“You’re not my usual type,” Donna said, “but I’ve been wondering what you looked like under all that.” She shrugged out of her own coat, letting it land in a heap on the floor by the door. She was kicking her shoes off as well, and then she walked straight up to the Doctor, grabbing her by the braces. “This is so weird,” she said, her tone, reflective. 

“What’s weird about it?” The Doctor asked. 

Donna was wearing a purple shirt (she always looked so good in purple, the Doctor remembered her in the purple toga), and it was low cut. The Doctor could see straight down it, although not as well as she could, back when she’d worn pinstripes and trainers. She’d been a good deal taller than Donna, back then. They were almost the same height now, and 

Donna kissed the Doctor instead of answering, and it was another wet, soft kiss. Her hands stayed on the Doctor’s braces, and the Doctor let her own hands roam a bit, from Donna’s shoulders to Donna’s back, her palms smoothing along the soft, silky fabric of Donna’s shirt. Donna’s nose was still cold, and so were the tips of her fingers - the Doctor could feel it, through her t-shirts, as Donna cupped her breast. 

“Not got much up top, do ya?” Donna asked, and she jiggled the Doctor’s breasts. 

“‘Fraid not,” the Doctor said, and she laughed, because it was such a _Donna_ thing to say. Her fingers slipped under the hem of Donna’s shirt, feeling along the soft skin of Donna’s belly. Donna’s skin was warm, and she expanded and contracted with each breath. 

“At least I make up for it,” Donna said, her expression rueful. She tugged at the Doctor’s shirt. “Off with it,” she said, and that was that familiar bossy Donna tone. 

The Doctor smiled at Donna, and she took a step back, sliding her braces down her shoulders and pulling her t-shirts up and off. She let them drop on the floor, and then she fumbled back for her bra, unclipping that as well and letting it join the pile. Her nipples were getting hard in the colder air, and she had to resist the urge to cross her arms over her chest. She never really considered herself attractive or unattractive; she was just a body. Every body was different, and every body was faintly transient. She had it now. She’d have a different one later.

“You’re lovely,” Donna said, and she sounded faintly surprised, as she pressed closer to the Doctor, her hands on the Doctor’s breasts. There was more kissing now, soft, wet kissing, and at some point the Doctor got Donna’s shirt off as well, and was fumbling Donna’s bra open and off. 

Time went a little wobbly, the way it always did in these kinds of situations. It was like a series of snapshots; the Doctor kissing down Donna’s throat, Donna’s glorious breasts in her hands. Donna clutching at the Doctor’s hair as the Doctor twisted her nipples, the backs of her knees against the lip of the bed. Donna, underneath her, red hair spread out around her like a halo on the light blue hotel bedspread. 

Donna’s breasts were full and soft against the Doctor’s face, heaving with every breath Donna took. Her nipples were a dark pink, and she moaned and gasped when the Doctor sucked on them, her voice going up in pitch with every pass of the Doctor’s tongue. Her fingers were tangled in the Doctor’s hair, and her hips were rolling up against the Doctor’s leg. 

“God, your mouth, Jane,” Donna was mumbling. She actually _squealed_ when the Doctor gave an especially hard suck, and she gasped when the Doctor’s tongue swirled over her nipple. 

“I’m good with my mouth,” the Doctor agreed, and she mouthed at a soft spot on the side of Donna's breast, then sucked. She had to be careful, or else she might leave a mark.

(She wanted to leave a mark.)

“Are you?” Donna sat up on her elbows, and she licked her lips. “What d’you like to do with it, then?” Donna licked her lips, and they were pink and swollen from all the kissing. Her tongue was very pink, and the Doctor’s eyes were drawn to it. 

“Oh, plenty of things,” the Doctor. “Loads and loads of things. Why?” She made a big show of licking her own lips, meeting Donna’s eyes as she did it. 

“I… actually, never mind,” said Donna, and she wriggled, clearly embarrassed. She seemed to be coming out of whatever haze of lust she’d been drowning in, and the flush on her face was taking on a more embarrassed tinge. 

“I’d like to know,” the Doctor said, and she rested her hands on Donna’s belly, rubbing it gently. It was soft under her fingers, and Donna squirmed against her as she did it. “I won’t judge, I promise.” She let her eyes follow the curve of Donna’s ribs, the way they tapered to Donna’s waist, to her hips. Donna was so warm and lovely and _alive_ for her, right there and then, and the Doctor 

“Everyone always _says_ they won’t judge, and then as soon as you ask for anything a little out of the ordinary, it’s all ‘wow, what’s wrong with you?’” said Donna.

“If it helps, I’m a complete stranger you met at a bar,” the Doctor lied, “so even if I do judge you, what’s the worst I can do?”

“Not much of a selling point, if you ask me,” Donna said, and then she flopped back on the bed, putting her hands behind her head. “But fuck it.” She cleared her throat. “I like people doing things to my feet.”

“Your feet,” the Doctor echoed. That was… faintly unexpected, although not outlandish.

“Never mind,” Donna said quickly, and she was avoiding the Doctor’s gaze. “I know it’s -”

“So, like, sucking?” The Doctor scooted down the length of Donna’s body, until she had Donna’s feet in her lap. “Or more like biting?” She made a big show of pulling off first one purple sock, then the other. She held Donna’s foot in her hand, Donna’s heel cradled in her palm. Donna’s toenails were painted dark pink.

“Um,” said Donna, and she cleared her throat. “I, uh, I hadn’t done much thinking beyond that.”

“Always good to start with a clean slate,” the Doctor agreed, and she kissed the tips of Donna’s toes, then the ball of Donna’s foot. 

“I did wash my feet tonight, before going out,” Donna said, and her tone was reflective. “I washed all of me,” she added, “not just my feet. I had a shower, I mean, didn’t just - _oh_.”

_PIty I didn’t know this trick back in the day_ , the Doctor thought, as her tongue slid between Donna’s toes, and she sucked hard enough that her cheeks hollowed out, and Donna made an undignified noise and jerk back. 

The Doctor grinned around Donna’s toes, and she sucked a little harder, sliding her tongue between Donna’s toes, then between another set.

Donna whimpered and thrashed under her, and her hips jerked forward. Her thighs were spreading open, and her eyes were squeezed shut. She gasped, as the Doctor’s mouth moved lower, along the sole of her foot, and then lower, to lick along her arch. She brought her mouth back up, to bite at Donna’s toes, and Donna gave another gasp.

It was wet work, sucking and licking Donna’s toes. They were slippery in her mouth before too long, and her chin was slick. She supposed Donna’s leg by the calf, and she felt the flex of Donna’s Achilles tendon under the palm of her hand, as Donna’s whole body seemed to draw itself tighter and tighter. The Doctor swirled her tongue along Donna’s big toe, and Donna had her own hands in her hair, yanking and pulling her own head back. She was making quiet little noises now, almost beyond sound. She squeaked when the Doctor pulled off of her toe with a ‘pop’, and blinked owlishly at the Doctor through the valley of her breasts. 

“Don’t remember it being that, uh…” Donna cleared her throat.

The Doctor grinned wolfishly, and she tugged on the hem of Donna’s trousers. “Let’s get these off, hm?” 

“Right,” Donna mumbled. She unbuttoned her trousers, then hooked her fingers into the waistband, shoving them (and her knickers) down. The Doctor leaned to one side, so that Donna could kick them away, and then she just… sat back, and took it all in.

Donna’s vulva was covered with curly ginger hair. She was wet enough that it had been pasted down, there were shiny spots on her inner thighs, where it had leaked down. The Doctor let her gaze travel up, from Donna’s cunt to the soft paleness of her belly, over to her dark pink nipples,which were tight and hard. She met Donna’s eyes, and she took a deep, shuddering breath. 

“Donna Noble,” the Doctor said, “you are _amazing_.”

Donna frowned, sitting herself up on her elbows and pressing her knees together as much as she could, with the Doctor sitting between them. “Hang on,” she said. “Did I ever actually tell you my last name?”

_Shit_. “I saw it on the letterbox,” the Doctor said. She scooted further forward, bending Donna’s knee and keeping Donna’s foot in one hand. “I assumed it was you.”

“Right,” said Donna. She still looked faintly suspicious.

The Doctor ran her tongue along the sole of Donna’s foot, then swirled her tongue between two toes. She enveloped three toes in her mouth, letting her tongue slide between them, and she pressed her fingers along the seam of Donna’s labia. 

“Fuck you’re good at that,” Donna gasped, and her other heel was digging into the Doctor’s shoulder. “ _How_ are you so good at that?!” 

The Doctor moved her finger up, to swirl the very tip of it over Donna’s clit, applying just enough pressure to make Donna’s hips jerk up. “Well,” she said, after she’d taken Donna’s toes out of her mouth, “y’know how it goes. You take an interest in something, you delve deeper…” She slipped her index and ring finger inside of Donna’s cunt, and Donna gasped again, clenching tight. 

_I wish I still had my cock_ , the Doctor thought, as she sucked and licked and nibbled along and between Donna's toes. She shifted her hand, so that her thumb was against Donna's clit, and she gave an extra hard suck. 

Donna clenched around her, and made a desperate little noise. She was rocking her hips, fucking herself on the Doctor's fingers, and her other foot was resting on the Doctor's other shoulder, the toes curling against the Doctor’s temple. 

_I always liked the texture of someone’s hair on the sole of my foot_ , the Doctor thought distractedly, _although it’s been a long time since I’ve felt it._ She bobbed her head up and down, in time with the thrusting of her fingers. She curled her fingers, and Donna made a high pitched sound that the Doctor would have teased her about, if this was the Donna who had listened to the Ood sing and crept through a Sontaran ship. She settled for smiling awkwardly around the toes in her mouth, then letting go to kiss and bite along the sole of Donna’s foot, supporting Donna’s heel in her hand. 

Donna was getting tighter, and her clit was throbbing under the Doctor’s thumb. Her cunt was so slick and smooth inside, velvety and hot as it grasped around the Doctor’s fingers. She dug her heel into the Doctor’s shoulder and she _wailed_ as she came, her cunt pulsing and her toes curling against the Doctor’s face. She shivered and whimpered as the Doctor peppered little kisses along her foot, and then she sighed gustily as the Doctor carefully lowered her foot down onto the bed, still shaking.

“Oh wow,” Donna said, and she sounded faintly stunned. “I wasn’t expecting it to be _that_ good!” 

The Doctor smiled, smug in spite of herself, and she carefully withdrew her fingers. “I’m pretty good,” she allowed.

“Modest, too,” Donna snorted, but she looked pleased. “You planning on doing anythin’ else with that mouth of yours?”

“Depends,” the Doctor said, and she draped herself over Donna, pressing kisses along the tops of Donna’s breast, then sucking on the nipple, her fingers twisting the other one.

Donna shuddered, and her fingers dug into the Doctor’s shoulders. They were surprisingly pointy, and the Doctor hissed, let go of Donna’s nipple.

“Wasn’t quite what I had in mind,” Donna said, “but not bad.” 

“You sound like a restaurant critic,” the Doctor teased, but she let Donna push her down, until her nose was almost level with Donna’s vulva.

“I mean,” Donna said, “wouldn’t be against a bit of eating out right about now.” She smirked at the Doctor, clearly proud of herself. 

“Good to know,” the Doctor agreed, and she pressed her face forward, her tongue tracing over the seam of Donna’s labia, then swirling the tip of it over Donna’s clit. 

Donna gasped and clutched at the Doctor’s hair, her fingers twisting it around and around her fingers. She gave it a yank, and the Doctor moaned into Donna’s vulva, pressing her own thighs together. She ground her hips forward, pressing the seam of her boxers against her clit, and she licked and sucked, moving her mouth all along Donna’s cunt. Donna’s heels dug into her sides, her ribs, her shoulders. 

“You’re so good, how are you so good, nobody can be…” Donna was still grinding her hips forward, and the Doctor held on to Donna’s hips now, keeping herself in place. She sucked on Donna’s clit, carefully, and Donna went stock still against her. 

The Doctor hummed around Donna’s clit, and she tilted her head back, taking more of Donna’s vulva into her mouth. Her jaw was already getting sore, and her chin was slick with arousal and spit, and she was moving her mouth without thinking - all of her attention as focused on Donna, inasmuch as she could ever focus her attention on any one thing. She followed every twitch, every gasp, every little motion that made Donna freeze, that made Donna gasp, made Donna sob. 

She tried to push every apology into this - _please forgive me_ , or maybe _I didn’t mean for that to happen_ , possibly _you deserved so much better_. She let her tongue and her lips and her fingers say what she could never say with her words. She kept holding on, as Donna came, again and again. There was wetness on her face, and some of that might have been tears, but she wasn’t ever going to admit to that. 

“Jane,” Donna said, and her voice was a rough croak. “Jesus, _Jane_.” Donna gave the Doctor’s hair a yank, and the Doctor let herself be pulled up, resting her chin on Donna’s belly. She was panting, and her face was red and blotchy, hair sticking to her face. Her whole body was slick with sweat, and she was trembling. 

“Are you alright?” The Doctor wrapped herself around Donna, holding on to her tightly, her forehead against Donna’s temple. 

“I think you might’ve shagged my brains out,” Donna said, and she sounded faintly stunned. “I’ve never come that many times, I don’t think.” She ran her fingers through the Doctor’s hair, probably messing it up even further. “If it’s always like that with women, I may give up on men altogether.” She shivered again, as one hand went to the Doctor’s breast, giving it a squeeze. 

The Doctor kissed Donna’s mouth, and she sighed, as Donna’s fingers made their nervous way down her belly, pressing against the waistband of her trousers. 

“Get these open, will you?” Donna asked. “I think you might’ve broken something in my brain. My fingers barely work.” She held up one shaking hand, and she was grinning.

“You don’t need to do anything,” the Doctor said quickly. “It was my -”

“Trousers off,” Donna said, although it lacked the bite her commands usually did. “Wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want you to.”

“Can’t argue with that logic,” the Doctor agreed, and she wriggled out of her trousers and her knickers, until she was just as naked as Donna, lying on the tacky hotel bedspread. She tried not to blush too hard, or to cover herself. She could feel Donna’s eyes roaming up and down the length of her body, and then Donna was kissing her again. 

“My logic is excellent,” Donna said, although her tone was distracted as she gently pushed the Doctor flat. She was sitting between the Doctor’s legs now, leaning forward to pinch and tug at the Doctor’s nipples. “So I’ve never done this,” Donna said, and her tone was surprisingly conversational, considering the sensations she was drawing out of the Doctor’s own body. “I’m not saying I’ll be bad at it, but I can’t guarantee it’ll be… as good as you were.”

“I’ve got a lot of practice,” the Doctor told Donna. “I don’t think there are a lot of people as good as I am.” 

Donna prodded the Doctor in the ribs, but she was grinning. “You’re a modest one, ain’t you?” She leaned forward, her long hair ticklish against the Doctor’s belly and breasts, and then her hot human mouth was wrapping around the Doctor’s nipple, her tongue flickering along the tip of it.

_Is she going to notice that I have two heartbeats?_ flashed through the Doctor’s mind, but she tried to ignore it. She gathered Donna’s hair in a rough ponytail, holding it off of Donna’s face as the other woman sucked and licked at first one breast, then the other. It was hard to hold on to… whatever detachment she had been vaguely clinging to, as the pulsing between her thighs sped up. Donna’s knee was pressed between her legs now, and the Doctor rolled her hips, grinding against the bone and muscle of it.

“You are _really_ wet,” Donna said, when she came up for air. She looked up at the Doctor, her expression open and surprised, and it made something in the Doctor’s chest ache.

“K-kinda hard not to be,” the Doctor pointed out. “I’m having sex with a sexy, gorgeous woman. I’d have to be a monk not to be… impacted, ooo, _Donna_!” 

Donna’s index finger was pressing against her clit, swirling it. It wasn’t a lot of pressure, but the Doctor was keyed up enough that it wouldn’t take much. “You’re just saying that,” Donna said, but she was smiling, clearly pleased. 

The Doctor ground forward, against Donna’s hand, Donna’s leg. She clutched at Donna’s shoulders, letting Donna’s hair fall forward, and she held Donna’s gaze as she came, the pleasure racing through her nerves like a prairie fire. She lay there for a moment, panting up at Donna, and Donna looked down at her, eyes wide.

“You have the most ridiculous “O” face I’ve ever seen,” Donna informed the Doctor. She wriggled her fingers against the Doctor’s vulva, and the Doctor grabbed her wrist, gently pushing it away. 

“I’ve got other virtues,” the Doctor told Donna, and she stretched, then gave out a wide, jaw cracking yawn. She needed to be going soon, before she became too comfortable. She might end up letting something slip, or changing the course of history - her own history, Donna’s history, human history, who even knew.

“You give the best head I’ve ever gotten,” Donna agreed, and she flopped onto the bed beside the Doctor. “So I’ve never done this before, how do we decide who's the big spoon? Is it a height thing? ‘Cause I think we’re gonna need to get a ruler to figure that out.”

_Oh Donna_. The Doctor wrapped an arm around Donna, and she cuddled in. “There isn’t any official way of doing it, no,” she said, as Donna threw a leg over her own. “Whatever’s comfy.”

“This is pretty comfy,” Donna admitted. “Although someone is gonna need to get up and turn the light off.”

“In a sec,” the Doctor murmured, and she let her eyes drift close.

Donna’s snort (derision? amusement?) was a puff of warm air against her collarbone.

* * * 

The Doctor woke up when the sky started to turn grey. Donna was curled up on her side, her back pressed close to the Doctor’s own. It took a lot of work to pad around quietly, gathering up her clothes. The Doctor couldn’t remember the last time she’d made _this_ kind of exit.

She’d never done it in this body, that was for sure.

Before she closed the door one last time, the Doctor looked over her shoulder. She’d turned the lamps off, so Donna wouldn’t have to deal with them when she woke up. She could see the shape of Donna under the covers (they must have climbed under the covers at some point), cuddling into the warm spot on the bed. Her silhouette was like a mountain range on the horizon.

“You’re gonna be brilliant, Donna Noble,” the Doctor whispered, and she closed the door quietly behind her and walked into the early morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from _Drops of Jupiter_ by Train.


End file.
